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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28812477">The Comedown Was What I Had Craved All Along</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopestill/pseuds/Hopestill'>Hopestill</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Eternal Arcadia | Skies of Arcadia</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dialogue Heavy, During Canon, Gen, Pre-Canon</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 10:55:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,980</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28812477</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopestill/pseuds/Hopestill</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Committing to the path of justice, more often than not, requires certain sacrifices: time, money, energy, even existing relationships may all be burned on the pyre for this ideal. But sacrifices need to be made for the good of all - for true justice - and who better to make these sacrifices than the Crown Prince of Valua?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Comedown Was What I Had Craved All Along</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi hello good morning! This is one of my two entries for Skies of Arcadia's 20th Anniversary zine, Eternal Skies! It was a fantastic project and gave me a chance to look at two of my childhood heroes in a brand new light. I always wondered what went on in Enrique's head to get him to where he was pre-joining the party and what sorts of events went on leading up to him joining with Vyse and co., so this fic let me explore that idea.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Uncle? What does this word mean?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The little prince walked up to Gregorio, purple beret crooked on his head. He carried a book too heavy for him, too large for him, and yet the bookmarks every other page indicated he was reading it like it was his religion; whether he truly followed it or faked his belief was yet to be seen, Gregorio thought. He smiled at the little boy and knelt down, looking him in the eye. “Let me see here... On what page?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“This one, right here.” Enrique opened the book and pointed to a word he had circled, underlined, and drew question marks around. ”Just… Just-ice?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Ahh… Justice.” Gregorio paused for a moment, closing his eyes. The mental image of reports on his desk, detailing updates on the unrest and executions of the common folk in Lower City; of mass military construction tearing the jungles of unexplored lands to pieces; of updates on conscription rates, present and future horrors that barred their fangs as the Valuan empire expanded its reach ever outward - he reopened his eyes as it grew to be too much. “Justice is… True fairness. Treating everyone, be they noble or common, as equals, and holding them all equal under rule.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Justice...” The little prince’s eyes shone while reading the word again. “Justice! I like that word, Uncle.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I do too.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Enrique closed a tattered book and put it back on his bookshelf, letting his fingertips fall along its spine. He looked down the shelf, at the myriad of imposing tomes and textbooks. All of these ornate, dense texts he read once, maybe twice if he felt he could glean more information from a re-read, but this one, this small worn storybook, was a text he returned to time and time again. He sought justice like a moth to a flame, drawn in by both the ideals and how right it was. As a child, he found it in his discussions with Gregorio, with talks with the few remaining ministers and advisors; never with his mother.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Now, it seemed like the only place he could find justice in Valua was in the texts of fairy tales. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Prince Enrique, Galcian has returned from the Mid-Ocean raid.” A voice from outside his room called to him. “You are expected at the Royal Court in half an hour.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Very well.” He sighed, looking out the window to the perpetually black sky, illuminated only by thunderstorms and those who could afford moonstone powered light. Even the lighting in his country laughed in the face of justice; the realization was just as stark as it was unsurprising. What can one man, even if he be the Prince, do to steer the country back to justice? The answer was obvious:</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Whatever he could.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He stood next to - and behind - his mother, ever since he was a child. It was a familiar spot for him, even now as he looked at her. The conversation between her and Galcian died away in his brain; when precisely did she become so gleeful about wanton destruction and kidnapping? Did the timing of it all even matter, was he merely focusing on the wrong things?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>When the Silvite girl fell to her knees, he opened his mouth, then shut it again upon the stark realization she had been knocked unconscious. Then, before he could catch himself, “Mother, enough,” with a voice equal parts wavering and stern.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Silence!!” She bellowed back, and all eyes turned to the blond prince. He stood firm; even if the royal court scorned him forevermore, could he live with himself if prisoners of war were not even allowed safety from bodily harm? “All you need to do is listen and watch; you are far too soft. How am I supposed to entrust the great Valuan empire I’m building to you if you suffer from a bleeding heart?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A thousand responses danced around in his mind. He chose the one of dignity and moderation; letting his mother control the narrative as she droned on, and merely locking eyes with the girl as if to say “I understand your pain but what am I to do?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He walked back to his room, replaying different scenarios in his head, grimacing as they all bled together. Was keeping his head held high truly the correct response? Was it </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> to make the girl suffer if it meant he wasn’t in danger of losing the throne, and more importantly the potential to change all of the wrongs his mother had been causing the country for the past 20 years? Would it have been better to give an impassioned speech to the royal court, only to have found himself under house arrest? Or worse, joining the girl and the Air Pirates in the colosseum for insurrection, the spectacle of the decade quickly forgotten to the history books as the status quo marched forever onward? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Enrique.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hand froze above the doorknob. He glanced over his shoulder. “Mother?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Enrique, you know I mean no harm. You wound me so.” The clicking of her heels on the carpet sounded foreign to the young man; how long had it been since he saw her outside of the royal courtroom? “I just wanted to spend some time with my son. How have your studies been?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Mother, is this about earlier today?” The suspicion in his tone was palpable - too palpable, as the clicking-clacking noise stopped. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Quick, engage her.</span>
  </em>
  <span> “I have been dutiful in engaging with the scholars of our country, if that’s what you mean by my studies. I am twenty-five, after all.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Oh goodness, how time flies by.” A contrived giggle from her, a labored half-sigh in response from him. “Sometimes I forget how much you’ve grown in age, with how you act. For all I know you’re still the same young child who cried at my side - in front of everyone, no less! - for the miscreants I threw to the Colosseum.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Enrique felt his heart race; with a sigh, he turned around to actually face his mother. “Mother, with all due respect, you know as well as I do that they didn’t deserve,” his words wavered; swallowing hard, he ignored the growing smirk on her face, “no, that their sentence wasn’t just. How could I not be moved to tears at the-” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Be quiet!! Are you certain you wish to continue speaking to me like that?! Do not forget who I am, </span>
  <em>
    <span>Prince</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” She took a step toward him, waving her staff in the air to and fro like that would be enough to put her offspring back in his place. He stood firm, but put his hand on the doorknob behind him just in case.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a sigh, she softened. “As incorrigible as you may be, you understand where I am coming from, yes? Good day, my son.” She sauntered off, heels clicking on the floor. He could only watch her disappear down the hall; he, too, disappeared back into his room to contemplate.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He found himself sparing with a training dummy a few weeks later, stabbing and backing away as if the mannequin could pretend to fight back. Deftly jumping back on the ball of his left foot, he lunged forward, rapier severing the rough hewn threads, cotton tumbling out of the overstuffed facsimiles. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“May I join you, Prince?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Enrique wiped the sweat off his brow and turned around. “Ah, I would like nothing more, Uncle Gregorio.” He picked up the stuffing that had fallen on the floor and haphazardly pushed it back inside the dummy, before carrying it to a corner of the room. “Apologies for the mess, I’ll clean it up once we’re finished.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I remember when you would have complained about picking up after yourself.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“You needn’t needle me so, Uncle.” Enrique mimed a wince before the two of them chuckled, taking their stances in the center of the room. “What brings you here?” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Word has spread among the admirals about your… altercation in the throne room.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It was only a matter of time before word spread, of course. Enrique took the first step, baiting Gregorio into a lunge. He deflected it with ease, circling around his uncle. “I don’t believe I’m overstepping my boundaries by advocating for justice. As Crown Prince, I think that would be one of my most important responsibilities.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“The Empress is concerned your reign would be one of restraint and inaction.” Gregorio shifted his weight and planted his feet firmly on the ground. Enrique loved to dance around those he sparred with, dodging and defending with equal skill, but his speed belied a lack of strength. Brute force would be the only way to win this duel, Gregorio would make sure of it. “There is time for grace and justice, and there is time for swift action.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Your statement implies those ideals are mutually exclusive.” Enrique grimaced; this was a favorite tactic he could never quite figure out how to break. “But I don’t believe we should sacrifice our humanity simply for accomplishments. We shouldn’t be sending girls to their death, nor abusing them for the sake of expanding the empire.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gregorio remained eerily silent. Something was wrong. Enrique pursued a more offensive approach, attacking with calculated strikes that were easy to block. “Gregorio, this isn’t the path the Empire should be taking.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The only response was another block, of metal clanging off of metal. A sick feeling pooled in the bottom of the prince’s stomach. “We shouldn’t be pursuing this, we can become a better Valua without the human cost! You have to see that, and the rest of the Admirals should believe in that! Why is Mother allowing for this - why is she accepting Galcian’s cruelty?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His strikes grew in reckless abandon. Years of taught poise and stances were thrown aside in favor of swinging the rapier as if it was a club. Steel clanging against steel tore apart the heavy blanket of silence covering the room. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Please, answer me!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Enough.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Gregorio knocked his weapon against a wild strike, sending the prince sprawling on the floor. He breathed a heavy sigh, turning his back to the Prince. “...You are still a young boy at heart. The path of justice takes many forms. You would do well to think on that.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Enrique watched his uncle put his sparring equipment away and leave the room. Something was going horribly wrong in the Empire, and even the man he trusted to act upon it seemed more interested in lecturing him? No… This couldn’t be right. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The only person who could pursue the path of justice now… was him.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>--</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The news from Nasrad prevented him from getting any sleep that night. Each time he closed his eyes, all he could see were burning palaces, burning houses, innocents from all walks of life slaughtered in the name of… </span>
  <em>
    <span>What</span>
  </em>
  <span>, exactly? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Certainly not justice. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Enrique felt a lump in his throat, standing in front of the throne room doors. People would talk of how awful he appeared - those bags under his eyes weren’t something that could be easily overlooked - but lost lives and injustice mattered more than physical appearances, regardless of whatever “shame” he brought to his mother and the court. If this didn’t go well… He would have to move to the next logical step. One that terrified and excited him, one he only dreamt of as a “worst case scenario” - but was it truly the worst case if it was for the greater good for not just Valua, but for the world? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“I’m here to see Mo- Empress Teodora.” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Wordlessly, the door in front of him opened. The large, imposing figure of Galcian was a black stain upon the vibrant colors of the royal court, and regardless of what ideas were taking root among him and Teodora, there was bound to be nary a dissenting voice within earshot. “Wait!” </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Galcian gave the bare minimum of a bow in deference to Enrique, who walked up to the steps of the throne, fists balled to his side, launching into an impassioned speech. “There was no need for the sheer massacre enacted upon the people of Nasrad! I understand expanding our empire, but… We’ve made our point, Mother. The people will rebel against us, and they have a clear case to do so: we’ve demonstrated that Valua does not have their best interests at heart. Please, pull the troops out, maybe we can give some aid-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Silence!”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The queen pounded her scepter to the marble floor, and yet the echo’s reverberations were mere whispers compared to the thunderous, </span>
  <em>
    <span>murderous</span>
  </em>
  <span> intent in her voice. Galcian couldn’t help but chuckle at the display. Dread crawled up Enrique’s spine, settling in his already stiff shoulders. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It is our </span>
  <em>
    <span>destiny</span>
  </em>
  <span> to span our reach across the Six Moons, to rule over all that is available to us! Your talk of aid makes me ill; how dare you delude yourself to believe you can rule over the kingdom I’m building?! You’re far too much of a coward. Get out of my sight before you make more of a spectacle of yourself than you currently have.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>All eyes on the court stared at Enrique as the determination in his eyes gave way to deference. He hung his head and thought to himself. </span>
  <em>
    <span>There is no other way, is there?</span>
  </em>
  <span> “...of course.” With that, he slowly turned around and kept his eyes cast on the carpet, lest he see the pity, anger, or sheer contempt in any of the court members’ eyes. And yet there was no time to breathe, much less reflect on the previous - or upcoming - disasters for the country. His next appointment was to the prison, at least to give a show of humanity to the prisoners, and to that end he was assigned a guard, who saluted him as the Prince entered the prison.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His guard even commented among themselves about how downcast he appeared as the two walked to the Grand Fortress, pursuing growing rumblings among the elite guardsmen that the same Air Pirates who ruined plans of conquest numerous times were now rotting in a jail cell in the fortress. He stopped in an empty room of steel and decay, as his guard spoke in hushed tones with another guard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...And you’re sure?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Positive.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Enrique’s ears perked up at hearing the conversation between his guard and one of the stationed prison guards. “What is happening, sir?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“It’s the Air Pirates, Prince Enrique, t-they’ve escaped.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“...I understand.” A smirk grew on his face, realizing precisely what needed to be done. Standing to his full height, shaking off some of the anxiety in his shoulders, he turned to the soldier next to him. “Listen. Under no circumstances are you to report this incident. Secure this floor, and report all information to me before you even </span>
  <em>
    <span>think</span>
  </em>
  <span> about sharing with the admirals. Do you understand?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The echo of a confused grunt came from the soldier’s helmet. “S-sir, yes sir, but what-”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Great. Thank you for being such a dutiful soldier. Your service will help this empire more than you know.” Turning his back on the confused man, the prince entered the elevator, only exhaling a shaking breath once the doors secured shut. He punched in a series of numbers in the number pad, leaning back against the cold metal once the elevator rose. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>As it lurched to a stop, he cleared his throat and stood ready. Thankfully, no one was there to greet him outside the elevator outside of a few guards. “Gentlemen.” They saluted him as he walked by, straight into the admiral’s office. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The Moon Crystals, perched on small pillows, were the most eye-catching thing about Ramirez’s office. Enrique threw them into a small bag and walked out, praying that the light and soft hum from the stones wouldn’t give him away.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Sir, what are you doing with the Moon Crystals? Did you have Lord Ramirez’s authorization?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Damn, think of something… </span>
  </em>
  <span>“Well, under my authority as Crown Prince,” Enrique began, enunciating each word slowly, forcing himself to keep his gaze steady at the soldier, “I wanted to ensure they wouldn’t fall into Air Pirate hands. And where is safer than with me?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“We’re confident the Air Pirate scum won’t find their way up here. Please return them.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>“Are the two of you aware of the penalties associated with defying royalty?” Enrique raised an eyebrow, praying the guards failed to notice his shaking legs. “These are the same Air Pirates who escaped the Grand Fortress once before. Would it not behoove us to be proactive in this situation?”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The guards turned to look at each other, and what felt like an eternity passed before they resumed their posts silently. Enrique blinked; </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he was supposed to move on. He cleared his throat, thanking them with a curt nod, before marching back to the elevator. Only when the door closed behind him did he exhale a shaking sigh. That was far too close; even with taking great pains to spend more time improving after his fateful duel with Gregorio, there was no way he could take on two guards without sustaining serious injuries. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>He put in his authorization code to travel to the Delphinus’ docking floor. Knowing the Air Pirates, they would be looking for a way out of the fortress. Maybe that was something he could help with. There certainly was no going back now; he was at their mercy. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The elevator lurched to a stop once more, and he walked to the intercom system. The elevator across from him was lowered, and he could hear the sounds of a fierce battle echoing up the corridor. “Perfect.” He leaned over the console, hesitating, fingers over the red button, then pressed it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>His hope for the future, both in the short term and in the long term, lay in the pirates extending an olive branch in kind to him. </span>
</p>
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